


How sweet the sound

by ravelqueen



Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Blood As Lube, Blood and Gore, Dark Hinata Hajime, Despair AU, Graphic Description, M/M, not for the faint of heart or stomach I'm sorry, of everything, oh god um this is really extremely dark guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-11-02 16:54:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10948740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravelqueen/pseuds/ravelqueen
Summary: Drip. Drip. Drip.The way his body is bent is quite uncomfortable, but he knows if he moves, the gentle hand in his hair will turn hard. That’s not the point though, the pain isn’t the point, the point is that he’s been put here. Like this. And who is he to decide he should move.





	How sweet the sound

**Author's Note:**

> Oh god this is, um, seriously dark.  
> The people it's for YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS, BECAUSE NO ONE ELSE WILL.

_Drip. Drip_.

The hand in his hair is moving in the same rhythm as the dripping. Komaeda thinks it might be soothing. He isn’t sure, but maybe if he decides it is. It might be. He wants it to be soothing. It can even be nice. He wonders if maybe Before he’d hoped for it to be?

_Drip. Drip._

It’s a bit too dark for colours to show, only a single light at the edge of his vision his head turned so he can only see half of the room. He doesn’t try to focus too hard, because if he does, he’ll move.

_Drip. Drip. Drip._

The way his body is bent is quite uncomfortable, but he knows if he moves, the gentle hand in his hair will turn hard. That’s not the point though, the pain isn’t the point, the _point_ is that he’s been put here. Like this. And who is _he_ to decide he should move.

_Drip. Drip._

It really was such a pretty picture. The room. He saw it for a second when he came in, before he was put face first into his lap. It didn’t even look like what it was at first. It looked like a message written over the walls that _he_ might not understand, because perfection wasn’t for someone like _him._ But a message to be understood. Maybe.

_Drip. Drip._

Or maybe it _is_ art, with a meaning only able to truly shine like this, and really who’d be surprised. _Ultimate Artist?_ He thinks and chuckles a bit.

It moves his body slightly and like he thought, the hand that was just now playing gently with some whirls of his hair tightens _down_. He rides the bright flash of pain, not even trying to suppress the moan.

“Something funny?” Hinata’s voice is gentle like his hands are not, like his body still is and the contrast is _exquisite_.

“Isn’t everything?” he muses, not a real answer, but not _not_ an answer. Because it is. Funny.

“Ha, maybe you’re right!” and the intonation is _almost_ right, the sudden burst of brightness, amusement, just how he remembers, it races through him, delicious like hope.

The other hand is cradling his cheek, both are leaving pink smears, some tantalizingly close to his lips.  He wonders if he should lick it. If he’s allowed.

Both hands have grown soft again, though they’ve started moving, now petting his hair, then dipping where his shirt exposes his chest. He squirms a bit, can’t help it, but Hinata just hums gently.

It’s peaceful really, the dripping becoming just background noise until Hinata shifts abruptly in the way he does now, sometimes, gathering him up to sit with his back against Hinata’s front, the chain around his neck tightened somewhere behind him, baring his throat.

He can finally see everything, the limbs strewn over the floor, vague shapes in the dark bent into silenced agony, a body hanging over the ceiling beam, slow drips feeding into the pool of blood at their feet.

“What do you think?” Hinata asks idly, unbuttoning and taking off his shirt, marking his skin with more of those pink smears. He licks off some of the blood on his face where Hinata can’t see.

 “It’s beautiful.” He says, tears pooling in his eyes, body shivering at the bloody groves Hinata’s nails leave on his sides. His own arms hang uselessly at his side, aching for a warm grip, rough rope. It’s more delicious in its absence.

“I’m glad.” Hinata says, leaving a small bloody kiss on Komaeda’s cheek, turning his head toward the one light source in the room, “I made it for you.”

He laughs when he sees it, voice coming out raspy, not enough room to breathe with the collar tight around his neck, his head pulled back. _Death rattle_ Saionji used to call it and the thought makes him laugh harder, pull against the chain, choking himself silent.

The letters are large, still dripping, HOPE literally shining brightly in this small room, smelling like copper. His laughs chocked off, turn into sobs, turn into laughs, tears streaming down his face while Hinata holds him close, humming something, cradling his body to him, inscribing secret messages on his skin with his blood.

“You- You know you don’t need to do anything for me Hinata-kun, it’s nothing I deserve.” He gets out, his voice sounding weak.

“I know.” Hinata says, kissing his throat. “But I wanted to.”

He squirms, can’t help it, everything inside him screaming a denial. He can feel a wide smile stretching his lips, the words coming out brightly “Of course I can’t say what Hinata-kun should do, but really, wasting this much effort on garbage like me, it’s useless.”

“Hey,” Hinata says, sounding so much like Before, the despair _twists_ in him, like a burn, throbbing in his thighs. Hinata moves them again, lowering Komaeda to the floor, hovering above him. The blood is sticky in his hair.

“I said, I _wanted_ to.” He says, sounding serious, face gentle. It’s still gentle when he leans down to bite savagely into Komaeda’s shoulder drawing blood. Komaeda writhes, he can’t help it.

When the teeth leave his flesh, he just lays there for a moment, maybe two, his shoulder fresh agony. He’s so hard, he’s aching, unconsciously twisting his hips, churning in his gut.

“Are you telling me I can’t?” Hinata says from far away. He’s sitting up now, smiling, wide, happy, carefree, Komaeda’s blood dripping from his teeth.

“I- “he gasps out, “I would _never-_ “breaking off into a moan when Hinata pokes with his pinky finger into the wound his teeth left. He’s surfing that high, just vaguely aware of his pants being taken off, his cock springing free.

His back arches, when Hinata viciously bites into his thigh. With his head thrown back he can still see the HOPE written on the wall, can see the ripped off arm that is lying close to his face. A drop of blood from above hits his face, mixing with the tears.

“Please, please, _please,_ anything,” he can hear himself as if from far away, but it’s true, the only true thing, something moving in his chest, wanting out.

“Anything, huh,” Hinata sounds almost detached, the deadness in his eyes appearing in his voice. He’s opened his jeans, moving over his cock with a blood-soaked hand for a moment, before he grips Komaeda’s legs tight, hand prints on his skin in vivid pink, and Komaeda is _panting_ , desperate, almost desperate enough to reach out himself, even though he knows he’s _nothing,_ can’t expect anything than what Hinata chooses to give.

“You know- “he breathes out, voice rattling with the first vicious thrust inside, feeling something tear, shaking with it, “you’ve always known, _anything._ ”

Hinata leans down at that, thrusts still as violent, latching back onto the bite in his shoulder, sinking in deeper and he –

He can’t help himself, laughs loud, burying the cold hand that belongs to Hinata in his hair, pulling him closer _in,_ laughing, laughing, body shaking with it, with how bright Hinata is.

He comes with a shock, body burning with the pleasure, Hinata still moving violently in him, each thrust a point of light behind his eyes, obliterating.

_Drip. Drip._

He comes to a second, an eternity later, come and blood dripping from inside him. Hinata’s hands are again carding through his hair, his eyes on his face.

“Extraordinary,” Komaeda can’t help but say, the dark swirls of Hinata’s eyes locked with his, blood on his hands, around his mouth, smiling.

 

 

 


End file.
